


Undercut Intentions

by cyoctrix



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Muggle, Dom/sub, Established Relationship, Fluff, Gentle Condescension, Kink Exploration, M/M, Role Reversal, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-27
Updated: 2019-08-27
Packaged: 2020-09-27 12:42:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20407924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cyoctrix/pseuds/cyoctrix
Summary: Harry decides he wants to try a bit of a role reversal. It goes about as well as expected.





	Undercut Intentions

**Author's Note:**

> Just something silly written by me and for me to help brighten my mood some. ♡ I share it with you in the hope that it might brighten your mood, too.

"Okay. No, this won't-- here, lift up." Harry places his palms flat on Tom's lower back, eyeing the older man meaningfully after some tugging on the belt of Tom's trousers yields little result. There's a bit of pleading in those wide green eyes, but it's very purposefully not voiced.

Tom is laid out across Harry's lap, clothes half-on and half-off, lazily sprawled. It's a heavy sprawl. Harry can't get the man's damned trousers down, realizing now that he probably should have stripped Tom before wrenching him over.

"Am I to be complicit in my own punishment?" Tom asks in the grim tone of a man on his way to the gallows. He lays his head down on the back of his folded hands, eyeing the bedspread with a woeful frown. He pointedly doesn't make eye contact with Harry.

Harry falters. "Okay, no. Here. Tom. You said. You said this would be fine. Just… _Tom_."

Tom lifts up. Harry doesn't see the twitch at the corner of Tom's mouth, so he only sighs his relief very quietly, thinking he's won a round.

This had been building up for a while. Harry likes their usual dynamic, he does, but he's been wanting to try something a little bit different ever since he found out he wasn't just into being edged, but that he liked the idea of edging someone else, too.

Maybe this is just the thing the world has been waiting for - Harry Potter's dominant awakening.

Harry voluntold Tom for the experiment, plying him with chocolate and the possible consideration of that threesome Tom's been hinting at. Harry's not entirely sure, but he thinks now that he probably didn't even have to bribe Tom at all. The way Tom looks at him sometimes… well, Harry doesn't always understand it, but there's a depth there that he shouldn’t be thinking about because he's in the middle of something and--

Oh, _hell_. Really?

Sometime after Harry had pulled Tom's trousers down and then promptly zoned out, Tom had wriggled his cell phone out of his shirt's front pocket to scroll through his notifications.

"Are you joking right now?" Harry squawks indignantly, swatting Tom's phone away to a soft huff of 'rude'. "Okay, that's it. Now you have to tell me what you did to deserve this, er, this spanking. And the phone is going to add maybe five swats to the total."

"Mmn," Tom hums thoughtfully, shifting his weight so his chin is resting in an open palm, elbow braced against the covers. He levels Harry with a gravely lidded gaze. Harry's breath doesn't hitch, not a bit. "I threw away your awful Irish Spring soap. I replaced your razor even though the old one had 'one more good shave in it'."

Tom isn't quite so juvenile as to add the air-quotes with his fingers, but they're very obvious in his voice. Harry tries to keep his glower to a minimum. He's completely calm and collected and properly in control here.

"I texted your friend Hermione to pick you up from the bar when you called me, horrified about the possibility of your finding a woman as… devilishly attractive, I think you said? As devilishly attractive as you find me." Harry had been on his fourth shot of tequila at that point. In his defense, that woman's suit, her sharp undercut… he was lost.

(Tom had bid Hermione ask after the woman's phone number, as he was an hour and a half away and couldn't well do it himself. After some discussion and vetting, the woman seemed quite amenable to a threesome when Tom mentioned Harry's infatuation.)

"Yes," Harry says with a sound like a laugh that he doesn't let emerge. Tom is making it incredibly difficult to stay in character, here. "Yes, that's true. You really didn't have to call Hermione, though, Tom. Ron. Fred. Even Ginny. Anyone would have been better."

"As you say. What is your verdict, then? However can I earn your forgiveness, Harry?"

Tom is doing his best, Harry assures himself. The older man probably can't help the false note in his humility anymore than he can help looking at Harry like he's about to make a meal of him when he's supposed to be preparing himself for a sound thwacking.

Maybe Tom wasn't the best person to ask to assume the role of sub for Harry's first time playing at switch.

"Erm. Twenty-five. Five for the soap, five for the razor, ten for Hermione-- er, calling Hermione, I mean-- and five more because it suits me." Harry feels a flash of pride at this last. He doesn't quite hit the same gravity Tom manages, but that was properly smarmy.

"Do you want me to count?"

"Er, oh, yes. Count. Also, thank me after each one."

"With pleasure, Harry."

Harry brings his hand back, ready to properly lay into it, but seemingly without his conscious doing he draws himself short before the first strike lands.

Whenever this is done to him, Tom manages to make an art of it, painting upon his rear and thighs a bare smattering of dusky purples and yellows along a sweltering swath of crimson. Suddenly, Harry is unsure.

"Harry?"

"Yes, Tom."

There's a pause.

Harry breathes out so forcefully his shoulders slump noticeably forward. "I don't really want to do this. I--" He doesn't even get to finish speaking before Tom is upright, those hands coming up to frame Harry's face with such potent regard that it squishes his eyes half-shut.

Harry starts to laugh, his fingers interlocking with Tom's without intent to dislodge the hold.

"You _knew_ I was going to change my mind," he accuses, faux-outrage and contorted face consigning his words to an exasperated exhale. "Oh, you're the _worst_, Tom."

"I thought you'd have gotten a good five or so in, actually." Tom doesn't bother hiding his smile, now, but his normally sharp-edged amusement is softened a great deal by the kiss he lays against Harry's forehead. "I never dreamed you'd be such a sweet thing that you couldn't even give me _one_, though."

Even though Harry couldn't quite manage to smack Tom before, he has absolutely no compunction now with harshly shouldering Tom into the mattress, grappling at the man's arms for better purchase.

Tom rolls them over, unwilling to concede to Harry now that the ball is firmly back in his court (if it had ever even left), and lays into Harry's face a series of infuriatingly gentle butterfly kisses that the younger is helpless to, wrists pinned as they are.

* * *

Later that evening, after all is settled and the both of them are sated, Tom nuzzles into Harry's neck.

"I'm going to be keeping the chocolate anyway."

"_Tom!_"


End file.
